Detective Harry!
by IamMycroft
Summary: An idea which I had. If well received, it will be expanded into a full novel. This can be considered a sneak-peek!
**Detective Harry!**

She was burning with curiosity. She had been restless and disturbed ever since she had received the telephone call the previous day. Of course (as her brothers had told her), there was no reason for her to feel this way. It was a perfectly harmless request. There was nothing suspicious at all. Yet, she felt that there was more to it than first meets the eye.

4:00 p.m. Another hour before the caller would arrive. What did he say his name was, again? Yes, he introduced himself as Harry Potter. Mary judged his age, based on his voice, to be between ten and twelve years. He was extremely polite and a little formal in his conversation, especially while making his request. However, there was an undercurrent of caution, as though his speech had been rehearsed and he was anxious that he should not deviate from the script. It was entirely possible that this practice (if it was practiced) was a result of a naturally shy nature but, somehow, Mary did not think that this was case.

Mary found herself recalling the conversation they had on the phone the previous day.

" _Hello?"_

" _Hello. May I speak to Mrs Mary Ackerman?"_

" _Mrs_ _Mary Ackerman? She is asleep at the moment. How may I help you?"_

" _My name is Harry Potter. I'm a student of year 6 and I have to do a project relating to the Second World War. I'm planning on interviewing people who have experienced the war and its effects but have not participated in the combat itself. I received Mrs Ackerman's contact details from an acquaintance of my Father's. I would, if it's possible, like to interview Mrs Ackerman. Would that be alright, Ma'am?"_

" _If you will wait for a moment, I shall ask her"_

" _Yes. Thank you so much, Ma'am."_

Her grandmother (who was, in fact, very much awake and extremely bored at the time) readily acquiesced to the scheme.

" _Would 5:00 p.m. tomorrow be a convenient time for you? You can join us for tea."_

" _Yes. Thank you."_

Mary looked at the clock again. 4:05 p.m. She sighed. She had better find something to do until her young guest arrived.

He was punctual. At precisely 4:57 p.m. doorbell rang. When Mary answered it, she found herself facing a boy of ten or eleven years. He was a trifle small for his age but he looked healthy. Mary guessed that he was an athletic child, born with an inherent love for sports. His black hair was extremely messy and stood up at weird angles and he wore glasses. He carried a notebook and a pen.

Mary was almost surprised at his appearance. She would have been less surprised if a highly sinister and suspicious character had stood in his place. Considering the images her uneasy mind had conjured, she could hardly be blamed for this.

He smiled at her. He was not timid, but he did not seem bold, either. As he looked up at her, she was struck by his eyes. He had beautiful eyes- emerald green and almond shaped. They were bright and seemed to glint like jewels in the sunlight.

"Hello. I'm Harry Potter" he said. "We spoke on the phone yesterday…"

"Yes. Please come in. I'm Mary Ackerman. I believe you wished to speak with my grandmother?"

"How do you do, Miss?" he said cautiously, stepping inside. Mary frowned. There was that strain of reserve again! However, she recovered quickly and took him to the garden where her grandmother was already seated.

"Please make yourself comfortable. Tea shall be served shortly." She told him and left.

Harry thanked her with a smile but did not move from his position until he was sure that she was well within earshot. Only once he was confident that she had gone back into the house that he turned to Mrs Ackerman.

Mrs Ackerman was surveying her young guest with sharp eyes. However, she seemed to be amused. Like her young granddaughter, she was much struck by Harry Potter's eyes. Unlike young Mary, it was not the shape and colour of his eyes that fascinated her but the gleam of intelligence within them.

She was an observant lady and she noticed his reluctance to speak to her before her granddaughter. Once he turned to her, she good-naturedly waved him into the chair opposite to her. Once he seated himself, she addressed herself to him.

"You're Harry Potter? Pleasure to make your acquaintance! Now, before Mary comes back, what was it you _really_ wanted to speak to me about?"

He did not betray his surprise with anything more than a slight widening of his eyes, Mrs Ackerman noted with approval. It was unbecoming to wear one's heart on one's sleeve, she firmly believed. Of course, it made no difference to her for a more insightful woman could not exist.

"Excuse my rudeness, Ma'am," said he, eyes lowered, "but how did you know that I wanted to speak to you about something else entirely?"

She chuckled. "I have a reputation, my dear boy, of being a very shrewd old lady. In my experience (and I could be wrong in this instance, though I doubt it) boys your age don't care about _'the experiences of those who were not part of the combat'_ , as you put it. Young boys, I'm afraid, are quite attracted to violence, especially that of war"

"Ma'am, have you always been this way?" he asked with a slight smile but Mrs Ackerman sensed that he was anxious for the reply.

"For as long as I can remember, Harry" she said, musingly.

He seemed pleased. "Ma'am," he began, earnestly, "I heard of you quite by accident. I am very sorry to bring this up but I was told that you were, in fact, adopted by the late Mr Langdon and…"

She interrupted him. "There's no need to apologize" she said. "It's a well-known fact and there's no shame or any point in admitting it. But, that was years ago and I don't see how it should concern you now or why you were so hesitant that my granddaughter should not hear."

He looked at her. "It is important, Ma'am" he said slowly and deliberately. She was surprised at the seriousness in his voice. She watched him intently.

He took a deep breath and opened the notebook he had brought with him. "It is important, Ma'am, _where you were adopted from_."

She looked at him sharply. "From Wool's Orphanage, London. But, I don't see how…"

He sighed. "Then, Ma'am, I must ask you- will you tell me all that you know of one Tom .M. Riddle?"

 _ **Would you like to see this piece expanded and turned into a full novel? Please Review.**_


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